The remainder of dinner was surreal and stilted. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being. He refused to believe that Anna was not ‘Alcide. She’s a snob. They had shared almost seventy five wonderful years there in nearly utter seclusion before it came time to move on. ” “How delightful!” exclaimed Anna. “Well, my girl, I wish you had thought about all these things before these bothers began. God bless you, Auntie! I'll go into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if you want me to.
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